


Arthritis.

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Chronic Illness, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Husbands, Love, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 01:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20827253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kurt reminds his Husband that every part of him is beautiful, even the parts that don't work as well as they once did.





	Arthritis.

“_Damn it._”

Kurt winces when he hears Blaine’s fingers slip over the keys, a harsh note blaring loudly through the slow, careful, melodic sweetness. There’s a slew of muffled expletives exhaled under his breath, accompanied by a frustrated sniffle that makes Kurt’s heart ache.

He rises tentatively from the couch, traveling down the hallway to the set of tall glass doors propped open to reveal Blaine in their music room, seated at their baby grand piano.

He observes him silently for a moment, noting the way his shoulders slump heavily, his head bowed in dejected concentration as he thumbs over the keys, slower this time, meticulously perfect in his crystal clear sound until he misses a note and whimpers in pain, his hands seizing.

“Sweetie,” Kurt says softly, moving to stand behind him, running his fingers soothingly across the warm nape of Blaine’s neck, above the stiff collar of his button up dress shirt and below his tightly wound curls that never seem to hold to the confines of gel.

“I almost have it,” Blaine says determinedly, craning his neck to gaze up at Kurt with a watery smile, a layer of thick tears hanging in his fanning eyelashes, reflecting the hazel glow of his irises.

“It’s getting late, Blaine. Come to bed?” Kurt rubs at the back of his head, fingertips massaging the tension out of his scalp, the creased lines on Blaine’s forehead smoothing.

“I almost have it, Kurt.”

“Honey…”

“Damn it, Kurt! I’m almost there!” Blaine snaps, his voice slicing loudly through the stillness of the quiet night. The outburst of anger drains away almost as quickly as it had appeared, and he drops his head forward, tears pooling over and cascading down his tired cheeks.

Kurt settles down onto the piano bench next to him, wrapping patient arms around his shoulders and kissing into the soft, supple skin of his neck as he holds him. He feels his heart shatter helplessly at the sight of his husband lost so deeply in agonizing suffering.

“I’m sorry.” The words are broken on Blaine’s tongue.

“Shh, I know, baby. I know,” Kurt soothes, stroking across his shoulders. He brushes his fingers comfortingly down Blaine’s arms, on a route to touch where he aches most.

“Let me see.”

Blaine doesn’t move, keeping his hands hidden beneath the keyboard of the piano.

“Please don’t hide from me,” Kurt pleads, yearning to relieve his pain.

“They’re hideous, Kurt,” Blaine croaks.

“They’re not hideous, they’re a part of you. And every part of you is beautiful to me,” Kurt speaks quietly, his voice weighted with emotion that chains to his heart, ripping heavy out of his throat.

Blaine sniffles as he withdraws his hands from underneath the piano, screwing his eyes shut and looking away, unable to bear looking at his crippled hands.

Kurt takes the tender flesh into his own hands, cracked sores bloodying Blaine’s swollen knuckles, his fingers red and inflamed and throbbing under Kurt’s touch. He caresses Blaine’s hands, gently massaging the sensitive, worn skin in careful motions.

Blaine’s body relaxes under the touch, but his voice still ruptures with pain when he speaks. “My hands are worthless, Kurt.”

Kurt moves one hand to cup Blaine’s chin gently, directing his gaze back to him and looking at him earnestly in the eyes. “Want to know why I love these hands?”

Blaine studies Kurt closely with wide, hurting eyes, clinging to his words like a lifeline as another large tear slips down his cheeks. “Why?”

“These hands have raised two beautiful, intelligent, wonderfully caring children. They’ve inspired more students than I can count to follow their dreams, and embrace their passions, and share their creativity with the world,” Kurt watches the way Blaine’s lips curve slightly into a small smile as he talks, so faint nobody else would notice.

But Kurt does, knowing every beautiful inch of his Husband’s face, his Husband’s body, with intimate exactness and achingly deep affection. 

He misses the days when Blaine’s smile never left his lips, beaming and radiant and so damn optimistic it was almost infuriating at times to Kurt, who could never seem to channel the same unabashed enthusiastic energy for life Blaine was always so innately exuberant of.

He wants nothing more than to help him feel that way again, to strengthen his insecurities and relieve his heartache, to make him understand how unbelievably beautiful every part of him is. 

“But what I love most about them,” Kurt continues, fingertips stroking Blaine’s sore wounds. “Is that they’ve held me through the darkest times of my life. Every time. Without fail.”

Blaine looks down at his aching hands, resting in Kurt’s palms, his eyelids slipping closed as another silent sob jerks through his body.

“These hands are my home, Blaine. They may not work as well as they used to, but they never have, and never will be, worthless.” Tears congregate in Kurt’s eyes as he speaks, blurring his vision. Blaine’s silent for a long, heartbreaking minute. 

“I’m never going to be able to play again, am I?” he whispers quietly, and it isn’t so much of a question as it is a statement, a despairing realization, one that makes them both grieve at the loss of something so valuable and precious to Blaine.

Kurt knows it isn’t fair to lie to him, to invalidate his struggle by providing unrealistic hope, no matter how desperately he wishes he could make it all go away. There are simply some difficult truths he can’t soften. 

“Maybe not,” he tells him honestly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know how hard this is for you.” He leans forward and presses a loving kiss to Blaine’s temple. 

Blaine leans into his touch, his lips pressing flat into a pale line. 

“It can’t be easy for you either,” he says softly after a moment, and Kurt’s heart aches affectionately at Blaine’s ability to be so sensitive to the needs and emotions of others, sympathetic and compassionate even at times when his own pain is most prominent. It’s one of the things Kurt loves most about him.

“Don’t worry about me, honey,” Kurt replies, because even though it’s the hardest thing in the entire world, watching the person he loves more than anyone else deteriorate, powerless to stop it, he doesn’t need to burden Blaine with that. 

“I always worry about you, Kurt.”

Kurt smiles at him fondly, laced with an empathetic sadness that he can’t hide as he stares at the most loving person he knows. He rises from the bench, moving to stand behind Blaine.

“Tell you what,” he says, fingers kneading into Blaine’s tense shoulders, his body slumping pliantly against the support of Kurt’s legs. “How about I run you a warm bath and you can soak your hands in the water, hm? How does that sound?”

Blaine gives a small nod, his voice quiet when he asks, “Will you join me?”

Truthfully, Kurt’s exhausted, the late hours of the night making him want to curl up in his soft bed under the warm covers and fall into a deep sleep. 

But he’s learned a few things over the years of being married to the love of his life. No amount of sleep is worth missing an opportunity to comfort his Husband, to make him feel better, and staring down at Blaine’s beautiful hazel eyes, he knows he wants that more.

More than anything.

He runs a hand through Blaine’s curls.

“Of course.”

……….

Kurt leans over the edge of the tub, fingertips grazing under the flow of steaming water falling from the faucet.

He can see Blaine out of the corner of his eye, standing behind him, his swollen fingertips shaking as he struggles to undo a button on his shirt, missing the small hole repeatedly. 

Kurt wants to push his hands away and unbutton the row of buttons himself, but he knows that will make Blaine upset if he doesn’t give him the chance to try first. He keeps his gaze focused ahead on the water, fighting off his wince when Blaine’s fingers slip again, an irritated whimper echoing off the tiled floor.

“Kurt?” Blaine’s voice is so gentle Kurt almost doesn’t hear it over the roar of the water.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think um… could you help me, maybe?”

Kurt tries to blink away the tears that spring to his eyes at Blaine’s soft plea, remembering a time when all of this first started, when Blaine wouldn’t ask for help, wouldn’t accept Kurt’s offers, stubbornly determined and insistent on doing everything by himself, bearing through the tears of pain. He knows it’s still hard for Blaine to ask, to watch his self-sufficiency wither out of his control as simple, everyday tasks become nearly impossible for him to complete on his own, but he’s trying, and Kurt’s more grateful for that than he could ever express.

He crosses the room, hands outstretched as he starts at the top of Blaine’s collar, fingers moving swiftly downward until he reaches the last button. He pushes the shirt off of Blaine’s shoulders, Blaine’s gaze shy as he watches Kurt closely, something that still amazes Kurt after decades of knowing each other intimately.

But this is new for them, this vulnerable care, Blaine surrendering all of his capabilities into Kurt’s hands, allowing Kurt to provide things he never imagined needing another person to do for him.

The tears spill over, running silently down Kurt’s cheeks as his fingertips find the thin hem of Blaine’s undershirt, brushing the warm skin of his torso as he pulls it up and over Blaine’s head, dropping it to the floor.

And then his Husband stands in front of him, beautifully bare with his tanned, muscled chest that Kurt loves every inch of, his body achingly gorgeous after all the years. His hands may be different, _older_, but the rest of Blaine isn’t, as irresistible and handsome as it’s always been to Kurt, defined and perfected with age rather than diminished.

Kurt kisses him then, his hands resting on Blaine’s bare hips as he leans forward and catches his lips slowly, consumed with the need to feel his husband everywhere, compact olive skin and strong arms, messy curls and burning eyes Kurt feels almost dizzy with adoration for.

“I love you, you know that?” Kurt whispers when their lips part on a breath, foreheads pressed together. He can feel Blaine’s tears sliding down his own cheeks, salty and thick.

“I love you too, so much,” Blaine replies, and Kurt sees it in his wide reflective eyes when he pulls back a little to gaze at him, his irises soft and unshielded to Kurt in a way they never are to anyone else, allowing him inside, to see and hold and protect, to _love_, where he’s broken and hurting.

He keeps his gaze on Blaine as his fingers unbutton his pants, sliding his zipper down and dropping slowly, crouching on his knees as he pulls the fabric down Blaine’s legs. Blaine steps out of them once they pool at his feet, raising each foot so Kurt can pull his socks off gently.

Kurt stares up at Blaine, his face level with the soft expanse of Blaine’s stomach as he begins to drop feather-light kisses over the lightly haired skin. He runs a trail across the sharply boned arch of Blaine’s hips, his head passing over the small gap between Blaine’s torso and arm before he places a kiss to the palm of Blaine’s hand, the skin pulsing under his lips.

“Kurt…” There’s an overwhelmed edge to Blaine’s voice that makes Kurt slow down. He places a final kiss to one of Blaine’s knuckles and stands, hands cupping Blaine’s strong jaw, fingertips tangled in curls as he kisses his lips deeply, slowly.

“How do you want to do this?" Kurt asks, kissing the crease between Blaine’s eyebrows until he relaxes.

“Um,” Blaine sniffles, his gaze flickering over to the tub, his eyes conflicted in yearning. “I want to be behind,” he decides.

Kurt nods, smiling softly as he slips his thumbs into the waistband of Blaine’s briefs and pushes them down.

He strips himself quickly as Blaine lowers himself into the tub, settling his back against the white marble, a look of relief flooding his face as his hands soak in the warm water. His eyelids flutter closed until he hears Kurt step in, gazing up at him with half-hooded eyes and a small smile that makes Kurt tenderly warm.

Blaine’s legs spread as Kurt sits between them, his back pressed flush against Blaine’s chest, Blaine’s flaccid cock resting against the curve of Kurt’s ass.

They both breathe a heavy sigh as Blaine’s arms wrap around his waist, hands still resting beneath the water, Blaine’s nose nuzzled against the side of Kurt’s cheek, his lips placing occasional delicate kisses on Kurt’s damp jawline.

Kurt closes his eyes, lulled by the soothe of the warm water and the closeness of Blaine’s body, bare skin touching bare skin, the smell of Blaine and clean soap floating clear and thick on the steamed air. He can feel Blaine’s chest rising steadily beneath him, and it’s not long before their breathing aligns, chests heaving deeply, slowly, together.

The silence is relaxed, calming, intimate and familiar in a way Kurt cherishes being able to know and love so well. It’s comforting, and secure, and safe, and Kurt’s hands wander towards Blaine’s beneath the water, lacing their fingers together carefully, loosely so as not to cause Blaine pain.

“The first time I saw you,” Kurt breathes quietly into the air, eyelids still closed, not sure what he’s really saying but it doesn’t matter because with Blaine, he doesn't have to think about it in advance, doesn’t have to restrain, or worry, or do anything other than speak freely, openly, knowing Blaine would never judge the raw thoughts of his heart.

“I remember it so well. To this day, it’s still one of the clearest memories I have. The way you looked when you turned around at the bottom of that staircase... all bright-eyed and dazzling smile. My knees went weak immediately by your beauty. It knocked all the air out of me. I’m not sure it ever came back.” Blaine huffs out a silent chuckle, and Kurt wasn’t even sure if he was listening or if he had dozed off, but he knows he is now.

“I remember thinking that I had never seen anyone more beautiful in the entire world, that it wasn’t possible to be that handsome, that maybe you weren’t _real_, and I had imagined you, or something,” he trials off, lost in his reminiscing of that precious memory, until Blaine kisses him gently on the cheek, his sore fingertips running lightly up the insides of Kurt’s pale thighs.

“You stole my breath that day, possibly forever, but in a way, you also gave me new lungs. I felt like I could breathe for the first time, like my life had finally begun, looking at you.”

Blaine’s hands run gently, slowly over Kurt’s stomach. “Kurt…” Blaine says, his voice cracking heavy with emotion. “I want to touch you… b-but-”

Kurt silences him with a gentle shush, knowing how much pain it causes Blaine to try and close his hands into a fist. He raises his hand, palm parallel to the soapy water.

“Put your hand on top of mine.”

Blaine places his hand carefully on top of Kurt’s, heavy and calloused and it’s still the most beautiful thing Kurt’s ever seen, the contrast of their skin together, the gentleness of Blaine’s palm resting on the top of his hand.

Blaine’s hand stays on top of Kurt’s as he brings them both underneath the water, slithering between his legs to find his cock, his hand curling slowly around it. He pulls upward, stroking himself lazily, slowly, Blaine’s arm moving with him, his hand closing as far as it can around Kurt’s closed fist.

The water sloshes around them rhythmically, Kurt’s cock beginning to fill slowly as he settles further against Blaine, whose wet, plump lips suck a warm bruise into the pliant skin of Kurt’s pale neck.

There’s something unexpectedly intimate about having Blaine’s hand on top of his as he strokes himself. Kurt’s in control, but it’s almost as if Blaine is guiding him, pulling and pushing even though he’s not really doing much of anything, holding and caressing Kurt in his most private area, moving with him, for him.

“I remember that day too, you know,” Blaine whispers into Kurt’s ear, and Kurt’s cock begins to harden rapidly at the feel and sound of Blaine around him, sweet in his ear as he tightens his grip and begins to speed up his hand in broad strokes that curl his toes.

“You were like an angel standing above me, the most untouched, perfect, pure thing I had ever seen,” Blaine sucks Kurt’s earlobe into his mouth, sending a warm spark down Kurt’s body that goes straight to the tip of his cock, Blaine’s hand on top of his pulling it back down and spreading it throughout his body, a warm pressure beginning to build low in his stomach.

“You were gorgeous, the most breathtaking blue eyes I’ve ever seen and the fairest skin. I could’ve stared at you for hours.”

Kurt moans at Blaine’s words, his back arching, the glide of his hand too rough but he doesn’t care, Blaine’s lips wet in his ear, his body solid and strong and all around Kurt as Kurt throws his head back, eyelids closed in blissful pleasure, the drag of his hand electric and momentous.

“And now you’re mine,” Blaine says softly into his ear. “So beautiful, baby. So prefect, Kurt, I love you so, so much.”

It’s those words, a messy, dirty kiss to his lips as he turns his neck sideways in search of Blaine, and the swipe of Blaine’s thumb unexpectedly across the slit of the head of his cock, that sends Kurt teetering over the edge, a high whine slithering through his lips as his orgasm washes over him.

He chest pulls tight with the white-hot pleasure, Blaine’s hand pushing on Kurt’s to keep him stroking through it, Blaine’s lips nipping and sucking and kissing some part of his face at all times, his chin, his jaw, the corner of his mouth, until Kurt slumps backwards against his chest, panting with exhaustion.

He breathes heavily for a few minutes, overwhelmed with the rush of emotions that race through him as Blaine’s arms circle back around his waist, his lips kissing into Kurt’s hairline. His orgasm wasn’t that spectacular, certainly not like the ones he gets from Blaine’s mouth, or when he’s rocking into Blaine’s tight heat, but it was intense in it’s emotion, filled with reverent words tumbling off of Blaine’s lips, memories of them falling in love, the profound love they share between them now, infinitely deeper than when they first met, stretching every inch of his heart to bursting affection as he watched Blaine’s swollen, hurting hands move with his.

The moment is so beautiful, laced so unerringly deep with a love that chokes Kurt’s throat, a love for Blaine that grips a hold of him so tightly he’s possessed, whipping around and straddling Blaine’s lap in a flash, throwing his arms around Blaine’s neck as he kisses him fervently.

“I love you,” Kurt can’t help but cry against his lips, tears streaming hot down his cheeks. Blaine lips still in surprise for a minute before he catches up with Kurt’s outburst and kisses him back passionately, his tongue slipping into Kurt’s mouth.

“I love you, too,” he breathes into Kurt’s mouth, tongues caressing together as they deepen the kiss, Kurt’s hands running wetly through Blaine’s curls, frizzy from the heat emanating off the water and between their heated skin.

Kurt rocks against him, moaning when Blaine licks sweetly into his mouth, nipping his bottom lip lightly, and when he feels Blaine’s erection poking against his stomach, he lowers a hand between them.

“I love all of you,” Kurt whispers as he takes Blaine in hand, kissing a trail across his jaw. “Every part of you. Every inch of you. All of it is so beautiful, so perfect to me.”

Blaine moans brokenly as Kurt begins to stroke him, faster than he stroked himself in the way he knows Blaine likes it best, twisting his hand around the head and swallowing the subsequent whine from Blaine’s flushed lips.

“I always thought you couldn’t get more beautiful, but I was wrong. Everyday you get more beautiful, everyday I fall deeper and deeper in love with you, Blaine Anderson-Hummel, every single part of you, no matter what you think about yourself, no matter what you hate, I will always love you completely, with my whole heart.”

There are tears streaming down Blaine’s cheeks as Kurt wraps an arm around his neck, tipping his head back to kiss him deeply and stroking him in quick movements with his other hand, the feel of Blaine thick and weighted and perfectly silky in his hand.

They’re a blubbering mess when Blaine comes, his eyes screwing shut in ecstasy and his sounds lost to Kurt’s mouth, harsh breaths coming out of his nose as he pulses in Kurt’s hand, waves of come spurting into the water sloshing around them.

Kurt holds Blaine close as he comes down from his high, the lap of the water against the sides of the tub stilling and his heartbeat racing under Kurt’s chest, under his palm where he slides his hand down to feel it.

Blaine breathes heavily for a moment, his face soft and peaceful where Kurt kisses it gently.

“We’re going to turn into raisins,” he says suddenly, cracking an eyelid open to glance up at Kurt and Kurt can’t help but laugh loudly, the sound bubbling through his chest and ringing around the quiet bathroom. Blaine grins at that, the sight of his beaming smile making Kurt’s heart flutter.

“Are you feeling better?” Kurt strokes a thumb across his cheek, brushing away the residual trail of tears, one arm still thrown tightly around the back of Blaine’s neck, their bodies seated closely together.

Blaine nods, his eyelids slipping closed briefly before they flutter open and stare lovingly up at Kurt. “All of my heart belongs to you.”

Kurt’s known that for years, protected and honored and cherished that astounding realization with everything he has, but it still makes his heart skip when he hears it.

“I know. And all of my heart belongs to you.”

They stay close together as they towel off, Kurt drying Blaine gently, draining the tub and brushing their teeth before they fall into bed, Kurt pressed up tight against Blaine’s naked back, holding him securely as his lips graze across his shoulder.

Their skin is damp and cool against the air, against the warm cocoon of the sheets that envelope them, trading slow kisses and whispers of love until they fall asleep, pillowed together in slumber.

And Kurt knows when he wakes up, tomorrow and for the rest of his life, it’ll never matter what Blaine looks like, or what parts of him stop working.

He’ll always love him with his entire heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!
> 
> This fic is part of a new series I've decided to start that will consist of one-shots of Klaine with different illnesses. I have a lot of family members who struggle with various chronic illnesses, so I've seen the effects and challenges first hand. I also did some research before writing this one and read several different accounts of people who suffer from rheumatoid arthritis to try and make it as realistic as possible, so I hope it does justice to all those who experience it's effects daily.
> 
> I would love for suggestions or requests if you would like me to cover a specific illness. I promise I will do my research about them before writing in order to provide you with the most accurate story I can. So please, feel free to leave prompts or requests! I also have a tellonym link in my profile bio if you want to leave it there.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed.


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